Their Favorite Game
by Robin Siskin
Summary: It was one thing they never got tired of selling, one game they never got tired of playing. [KH, twincest, oneshot, drabble, T for nongraphic secondary sexual references]


**A/N -** Had some trouble with this one. Twincest. Nongraphic second-hand depictions of lovemaking. Don't like it? Don't read it. Cake.

They sold it the same way prostitutes sold sex, except for some reason there was no shame in what they and the rest of the members of the host club did. There was something hugely different between selling sex and selling seduction, and even if there hadn't been a difference anybody saying otherwise would probably have been razed until their point of view was beyond recognition.

It was one thing they never got tired of selling, one game they never got tired of playing.

Their fans might have said that their favorite game was really the 'which one is Hikaru-kun' game, but they knew (and, though they'd never admit it, they hoped – wished – the rest of the host club knew as well) that that particular game never held much charm. It was too saddening, too depressing. To ask the question over and over, and to be greeted with an incorrect answer nearly a hundred percent of the time, was too painful to hold much charm. Too painful to hold much charm, and not twisted enough to be worth the pain.   
Selling brotherly love, playing the taboo game of hiding behind the prospect of selling it instead of actually practicing it, was just twisted enough to make it worth their time to bear the pain. It was _fun_. The reaction they got from their clients, that wasn't the fun part. The fun part was calculating, making predictions, planning ahead, waiting to see how long it would take before somebody found out and hoping it would snow enough between the time they left point A and the time everyone else reached point A to cover their tracks sufficiently. Anything simpler or more innocent just wasn't worth their time.

They pretended to be in an incestuous relationship to cover up the fact that they were in an incestuous relationship. A relationship of any kind only cemented the idea in the heads of their peers that they weren't separate entities but really were one and the same: interchangeable.

And yet, they stayed together. Not only as siblings and friends with an undeniably perfect genetic bond, but as lovers participating in the one act that could allow others to view them as even closer. As lovers, joined at the hip, they would become, during the act, more than simply twins and lovers and friends, but _Siamese _twins. There was a distinction between twins and conjoined twins that was very distinct. Twins were forever doomed to be twins. Siamese twins would be viewed as two people stuck together, and eventually, if they weren't conjoined at a vital organ, be freed from twin-hood altogether, and simply be two siblings who share a birthday, not viewed as twins at all but simply people who suffered from a disorder and were freed. As lovers, they could achieve that same feeling, the feeling that some day they would be viewed as something other than Hikaru and Kaoru, that some day people would look at them and could say which one was Hikaru-kun even if they changed their hair every day and coordinated their wardrobes.

So they clung to each other, because they were the only ones that understood the game in its entirety (except for maybe Kyouya), and because they were the only ones warped enough to understood each other entirely. Haruhi would try, and Kyouya would get close, and Tamaki would fail miserably, and Mitsukuni would pretend not to care while Morinozuka would really seem to not care, but nobody besides the Hitachiin brothers would ever completely understand the game or themselves. The maid who had predicted that maybe there would be nobody who would ever be able to tell them apart had not been completely right. For awhile, they had taken comfort in the fact that there were at least some who knew which one was Hikaru-kun, but just as they knew that the 'which one is Hikaru-kun' game was too painful, they knew that hoping that someday they could be taken as something other than a single entity was too painful.

They sold it the same way prostitutes sold sex and played with it as themselves and their fellow host club members played with women's hearts. They did that, and it was painful, but they endured it, because it was the one thing that never got old and that would not, could not, ever end.


End file.
